


Unmapped and Strange

by voleuse



Category: Lost
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-02-21
Updated: 2005-02-21
Packaged: 2017-10-04 15:26:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,702
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/31728
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/voleuse/pseuds/voleuse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><em>You yourself must change it.</em></p>
            </blockquote>





	Unmapped and Strange

**Author's Note:**

> Written after 1.16, intended as futurefic, but now, totally AU.  
> Title, summary, and headings adapted from _Dreams Before Waking_ by Adrienne Rich.

_i. consolations you expected_

Jack gets calls from the media at least twice a week. He screens his calls now, lets the messages blur together when he breaks down and listens.

The most persistent are the tabloid news shows, the ones that want him to break down and cry in front of the camera. He was tempted by the offer from Barbara Walters, but ultimately, felt too drained to return the call.

Sometimes magazines request interviews. _Esquire_, _New Yorker_, _National Geographic_. Publications he respects, wanting in-depth interviews about his experiences, the island, and his fellow castaways. He doesn't call them back, either.

His mother calls, too, leaves quiet, pleading messages. Apologies, words of comfort and forgiveness. _I just want to know you're all right_, she sobs.

He listens to the messages once a week, erases them without answer, and says everything he needs to say to the bottom of a bottle of tequila.

_ii. brilliance that does not come_

Everything is different when Sayid returns. He thought, upon rescue, he would seek asylum from the United States, but discovers he doesn't need it.

The government generously provides him with passage to Tikrit and, after a length of time, he manages to step onto a plane and return to his home.

After landing, he finds a truckload of American soldiers bound for his hometown. He finagles a ride with them, using his near-celebrity and a carton of cigarettes as currency.

They drop him off at the outskirts of the village, continue on to their destination.

He walks the streets, cataloging changes both massive and minute. When he arrives at the ruin of what was, once, his home, he can't manage to feel surprised.

_iii. once again on the pavement_

Michael finds his apartment rented out to someone else, but his landlord was generous enough to put his stuff in storage. (He is also generous enough to give Michael a couple of months to repay him the rental fees for the space.) Because his will had left everything to Walt, what little savings he had were still snarled in legal knots by the time they were rescued.

He finds a modest apartment in a good neighborhood, sets Walt up in a decent school, and considers his options.

Then, he buys paint, canvas, paper, and charcoal.

After three weeks of feverish creation, he dials a gallery, and crosses his fingers.

_iv. at such a price_

Kate resigns herself to prison. After everything that happened on the island, she thinks she can survive anything.

It comes as a surprise when most of her sentence is commuted to community service, several hundred hours of it. She doesn't think she deserves mercy, not after what she did, but the aftermath of the rescue made her sympathetic to the public eye, and the testimony of the other survivors was in her favor.

Her brief stint in prison is harsh, but comforting in its predictability.

When she's let out on parole, set to her new task of repaying her debt to society, Kate concedes, to herself, that she's always had one thing on her side.

Luck.

_v. despair falls like the day_

Six months after they're rescued, and he still hasn't been accused of murder.

Sawyer thinks it's about time he had some good luck, instead of the other kind. He's faced his share of demons, personal and almost literal, and he's settled his accounts with both.

He pays a visit Hibbs one night, settles _that_ account, too.

Then he burns the letter, and never looks back.

_vi. you have never moved_

One day, she's gone, not even a note to mark her absence.

Jin searches for her, first in one city, then the next. And the next, and the next.

He lets anger edge out despair, because he's done everything for her, _everything_, and she owes him better than an empty house. She owes him an explanation, at least.

He returns to her father, only to be scorned for losing her. He's beaten, shown to the door.

Jin finds other ways to fund his search, blood tinging his palms, discontent growing to rage.

Then, one day, he finds himself standing in front of the ocean. He crouches in the sand, lets the saltwater trickle between his fingers.

He breathes out, out, out.

And waits.

_vii. forget the evenings of watching the street_

Charlie crashes in Liam's living room for two months after the rescue, reveling in food and family. Playing catch with his niece, playing his guitar through the night. Mending fences broken long ago.

He tells the entire story to Liam, over a pot of tea and a plate of biscuits. Half of it is too fantastical to pronounce in the light of day, but when night falls, he curls into a kitchen chair and confesses all his sins.

Charlie had thought himself broken, but sometimes, when his chest aches from remembrance, he looks across the table, and Liam smiles at him. Pours him another cup.

And Charlie thinks that this, maybe, is what he missed most of all.

_viii. still you can believe_

All Hurley wants, when he gets back, is pizza, and some quality time with his PS2.

Thanks to a few endorsement deals, he also gets a lifetime supply of Diet Pepsi and an all-access pass to iTunes.

It's sweet, but after a while, he gets tired of the noise. The phone calls, the cameras, even the people who recognize him on the street and wave.

He kind of misses the quiet.

When his publicist suggests another commercial, this time with Reebok, Hurley groans. Declines, and suggests something a little different.

The next week, he holds a press conference, and announces the first Annual Charity Golf Island Classic.

_ix. what made the difference?_

Boone's job is waiting for him when he gets back.

He doesn't want it anymore.

It's the first time anyone's said no to Sabrina Carlisle. Anyone aside from Shannon, that is, and he avoids thinking about Shannon if she's not standing in front of him.

_What are you going to do_, she asks him, _live off your trust fund?_

He doesn't bother to respond, partly because she's trying to threaten him, but mostly because he doesn't have an answer.

He's spent enough time living for someone else's approval. He's going to live the rest of his life for himself.

He just has to figure out who he is, first.

_x. know the stages_

Sun has never lived alone. She lived with her family until the day she married Jin, and she lived with Jin until the day she ran away.

She misses him, sometimes, but not enough to let him find her.

Not yet, anyway.

For now, she's proud of her studio apartment and her minimum-wage job, tending rose bushes outside the local library. Her hands are callused and her feet have blisters.

She's never been happier.

_xi. you have your pride, your bitterness_

Shannon doesn't need anyone.

They're rescued, just like she knew they would be, and she doesn't want for anything.

Her stepmother finally gives her access to her trust fund, after a phone call from Shannon's newly acquired lawyer. (It's amazing what good publicity will do for Shannon, and what bad publicity might do to Sabrina.)

She's famous and newly-crowned fabulous, invited to every party thrown by anyone worth anything, and she loves it. They give her clothes, jewelry, and VIP passes. She walks the red carpet and they cheer when she smiles.

When Conan asks her about her family, Shannon crosses her legs, grins. And changes the subject.

Because she doesn't need anyone at all.

_xii. don't speak of despair_

Walt kind of likes living with his dad. They still fight a lot, but it's nice, living in a home again, and Michael talks to him more than Bryan ever did.

Bryan still hasn't called, not even to say he's glad Walt's alive.

Walt doesn't care that much, not really, because he's still got Vincent, and Michael's cool, and the kids at school really _listen_ to him, 'cause he lived on an island for so long without TV or anything.

Bryan doesn't call, but one day, Michael gives Walt a hug, out of nowhere, and says something bad happened to Bryan, but they're still okay, right?

_We're okay,_ Walt tells him. _You're my dad, now._

Michael's watery smile kind of disappears, but that's okay.

Walt isn't smiling, either.

_xiii. what would it mean to live_

Claire knows the curtains are important. The baby's walking, even starting to talk clearly, and she wants to make sure _she's_ the one who gets these moments, and not the photographers constantly lurking around the apartment.

All she wants to do is raise the baby, and forget everything else that happened on the island.

She ends up in Los Angeles, alone, and sets up shop with a pack of tarot cards.

It's busy at first, a constant rush of people wanting to get a glimpse of the castaway mother, but when it slows, she has a number of steady customers, and plenty of one-timers convinced she has the gift.

She tells herself this is the perfect life, and she's only lying a little bit.

Then one evening, Charlie appears on her doorstep, and she decides she's not lying to herself at all.

_xiv. what would it mean to stand on the first  
page of the end of despair?_

Locke remembers the rescue.

It was first heralded by a plane, a large one, flying overhead, and a scramble on the beach to pile more wood on the signal fire.

Three days later, another plane appeared on the horizon, dipped low over the island.

The next day, another, and then another.

Then, the boat came, sweet salvation.

He remembers how the other survivors wept, gathered their few belongings, embraced their rescuers like long-lost family, long-lost lovers.

He remembers the way the other survivors looked back at the island, with fear, and maybe a little regret.

He remembers the panic in Boone's eyes, the resignation in Jack's.

Locke remembers watching the rescue boat sail off without him.

As he raises his arms, lifts his face to rain, and sun, and fate, he doesn't regret a thing.


End file.
